


The Comforts of a Greatcoat

by boredsince1894



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Ianto's ongoing love for Jack's coat is good for the soul, M/M, janto
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-22
Updated: 2017-05-22
Packaged: 2018-11-03 22:38:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10976808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boredsince1894/pseuds/boredsince1894
Summary: IantolovesJack's coat. And no, not just for the kinky reasons people always assume. It's warm and comforting; it's precious to him.Written in honor of the twelfth anniversary of The Empty Child/The Doctor Dances, for the we-are-torchwood celebration (created by hopefulqueer and myself on Tumblr). The prompt was "Monday: Jack’s coat (of course it needs an entire prompt all to itself)."





	The Comforts of a Greatcoat

     Ianto hated going to the dry cleaners. It was one of the most boring aspects of his job. He figured the owners would like him, considering how often he had to go, but they always seemed at least a little miffed to see him. Maybe they’d caught too many glimpses of the bloodstains. On second thought, Ianto decided, it was definitely the bloodstains. But that couldn't be helped. Blood sometimes felt as much of a recurring part of their days as his coffee. 

     Despite how unpleasant the questioning looks, the sneers, and the boredom was, none of them were the worst part of going to the dry cleaners. The worst part was handing Jack’s greatcoat over to the machines. Entrusting them with it. Knowing that the smell of Jack was being washed away. 

     It was ridiculous, beyond silly, but he couldn’t help burying his face in the fabric before giving it up to the chemicals. And it wasn’t just the pheromones, he swore to himself. The way Jack smelled, combined with the coat’s own inherent smell was just...comforting. Warm in ways that reminded him of a firm but gentle hand placed in the small of his back, an arm wrapped around his waist, or nuzzling into Jack’s neck. 

     As soon as the dry cleaning was done, he would inspect the coat. When no rips or fraying could be found, he would immediately return to the Hub, or their flat--wherever Jack was--and hand it over. In the beginning, Jack would give him a simple thanks and hang the coat up, forgetting about it for the time being. However, as the years passed and their relationship grew, he began to pick up on the quiet, disappointed sigh and the ever-so-slight slump of Ianto’s shoulders. One day he finally seemed to understand, because instead of hanging the coat up, he put it on. After adjusting the sleeves, he patted down the collar and rubbed the buttons between his thumb and forefinger. Jack was making the greatcoat his own again. 

     A happy, warm light was lit behind Ianto’s eyes when he watched Jack do this for the first time, and so it continued. Whether they stayed in the bunker under Jack’s office or at their flat, Ianto would always be the one to remove the coat from Jack’s shoulders and hang it up. Of course, not without managing to discreetly breathe in the steadily returning, familiar smell that soothed him so much after a harsh, exhausting work day. Jack never teased him for it...never even brought it up. He simply offered a soft, knowing smile, and continued on with their routine. Ianto wasn’t sure he’d ever find the words to describe how grateful he was for that, or for any of it. But he knew one thing: it made him feel loved.


End file.
